On my first self-guided tour, the calculator was caught my eye because it was one of the few things left behind in the laboratories that filled the second floor. On my next trip, it had been smashed to pieces.
Rubber dock boots still sits under the desk in the dock office, near keys to rusted locks and files of fired employees.
Pillsbury from across the Mississippi River and Stone Arch Bridge from the roof of the Washburn Crosby Elevator (aka Gold Medal Flour).
Records of dead machines rot on the accounting office floor.
A squat in the basement of the Temple Opera Block. When the residents were evicted by Duluth Police in 2013, they said their favorite part of living there was that the steam pipes kept it warm all winter long for free.
Sidewalks to a boarded barracks, each making the other obsolete in the night.
In one of the small offices there’s this machine that bills itself as “The Recorder.” I’m an old tech geek and I still don’t know what this really does.
1950s safety posters about static and proper footware hide in remote offices, where the curious haven’t stolen them… yet.